


Both of them Yours

by infinite_regress



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Love, Romance, Tenderness, whouffaldi, whouffle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 03:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11980863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinite_regress/pseuds/infinite_regress
Summary: It's always this way between them. His gentleness has brought her to tears more than once, and he has kissed those tears away.





	Both of them Yours

He is fire and ice and at the heart of the universe. He's a bundle of restless energy pacing and back and forth in the TARDIS console room, all long fingers and wild hair, jabbing at the console and muttering. He rained fury on the latest evil. Plans made, part-executed, and then desperately reworked in a last minute rush to the finishing post, desperate to save the innocent, not to mention themselves. Moments ago his anger was magnificent and terrifying, and his blood is still running hot. She can tell by the wild look in his eyes and the slight tremble of his fingers. His face is still flushed with outrage and adrenalin. She wonders if he frightens himself sometimes with all that raw energy and his stubborn inability to walk away.

  
“That was quite a speech you back there,” she says tentatively, because he is still fully charged.

  
His eyes are flinty and hard, and she has to admit seeing him like this heats her up a bit.

  
“I didn’t want it to end that way,” he said, his eye twitching almost imperceptibly at the corner. “I didn’t want to be the man brought the fire.”

  
“They had the chance to do the right thing. They could have stopped. You warned them.”

  
“Sometimes...” He looked up at her then, his voice almost bitter. “Sometimes the only choices are bad ones.”

  
“No. You made a good choice today. Someone has to make the hard choices.”

  
His voice became rough, laced with sharp edges, and that old enemy, self-loathing,  peeking in. “I’m surprised you can stand it sometimes.”

  
She saw it then, the guilt. Guilt for everything he did, and everything he failed to do. They lost as many lives as they saved today, and it weighs heavy on him. He gets like this, sometimes, wound up like a coiled spring, wrapped in his own darkness. Thinking he isn’t a good man. The rage and loneliness are almost too much for him to bear, she thinks, and he needs something to unlock his soft places and bring colour back into his world.

  
She moves closer to him, her breath a little too fast, her cheeks flush at the fire in his eyes. She lays the flat of her palm against his chest. It’s a signal he understands.

  
“There is much more to you than that,” she whispers.

  
He takes her hand, and kisses her palm. He moves slowly now, in the way he always does when he kisses her, gently touching her cheek, waiting for her to turn her face up to him. Pressing his lips to hers so softly she still thinks it’s a dream sometimes. When he folds her into his arms he becomes a gentler version of himself, as if the only way he knows to love her is with reverence. Each touch is a summer breeze across her skin, every kiss is a caress from an angels wings, until nothing between them remains. He sighs softly into her, and she yields for him every time. He needs this, to know her completely and discover himself again in her.

  
He’s not a good man. He’s not a bad man. In her arms he can be _both_. He’ll strip his soul back to bare flesh and bones, just to whisper inside her, she knows this, and she’d do the same for him. She shudders with the raw beauty of them moving together, and while he is lost for a moment she holds him tight, gasping. It is always this way between them. His gentleness has brought her to tears more than once, and he has kissed those tears away. As they lay together she kisses his forehead, and although he is so much taller than her, he snuggles down and rests his head on her breast, his hand on her stomach.

  
“You heal me”, he mumbles, close to sleep now.

  
She draws lazy circles on his back with her fingers, and kisses him again. “Hush,” she whispers. “I know your hearts. There is nothing but love there.”

  
Gently he smiles, his eyes closing. “Two hearts. Both of them yours.”

They rest, gently together.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Because Twelve is a terriflying enemy and a gentle lover.


End file.
